


Testing the Mettle

by Mrs_Stiltskin (Lady_Belles_Teacup)



Series: The Gingerbread Verse [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Oral Sex, Puppies, Rumbelle Christmas in July 2018, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 16:06:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15392415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Belles_Teacup/pseuds/Mrs_Stiltskin
Summary: PROMPT: Rumple saves Belle from the snowMy RCIJ stocking stuffer for Emospritelet. Have a little Dark Castle Rumbelle Yuletide fluff with a strange, smutty twist. The main gift fic has turned out to be a multi-chapter WovenLace angst and smut fest which I will begin posting later today. But for now - Dark Castle, puppies, and smut… XDThis is in the same vein as my 2015 Rumbelle Secret Santa gift, “Gingerbread and Spice” if anyone is curious how they got together in this verse and hasn’t read it.I hope you enjoy, Sprite! This prompt was awesome, and sent my mind soooo many places!





	Testing the Mettle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Emospritelet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emospritelet/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Gingerbread and Spice](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5473895) by [Mrs_Stiltskin (Lady_Belles_Teacup)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Belles_Teacup/pseuds/Mrs_Stiltskin). 



Belle cursed her own impulsiveness, and not for the first time that day. An icy west wind and swirls of white snow scoured her stinging cheeks as she stopped to massage her injured knee. It was swollen, black and purple bruises already forming beneath the skin. It would look worse in the morning, no doubt, but worst of all was the pain that lanced through her with every step. Rumplestiltskin would be furious with her, but there was nothing for it now but to soldier on.  
  
Hunching forward to protect the little ones tucked into her bodice, she inched her way forward through deep drifts of powdery snow and tangled underbrush. Brambles and twigs reached out with razor-edged talons to catch at her sodden clothing and rake her tender skin, leaving raised welts and a bitter sting in their wake. The frigid cold made everything seem unbearable, and she was nearly at her breaking point.  
  
_Foolish girl! Why couldn’t you have at least thought to grab your cloak? Nope, headlong into the snow, and not a stitch of cold weather gear to speak of._ _  
_  
Of course, she couldn’t chastise herself too severely. If it weren’t for her inclination to simply go with her gut, she and Rumple would still be tiptoeing around each other, and not blissfully happy to be learning every intimate detail about one another for this last fortnight. But neither would she be here, soaked through to the bone, trudging about in this dreadful ravine. She rubbed at the sharp scrapes on her bare arms, her fingers coming away smeared with blood. _Damn!_  
  
_Oh! Why did she have to be so accident prone?_ Her breath plumed out in icy crystals, reflecting in the late afternoon sun. Ice and snow insinuated itself into every available crevice of her quite impractical shoes, freezing her toes. Oh, they’d hurt for a while, sharp pain freezing her nerves, but now they were numb, like her bare hands which she was keeping tucked beneath her arms to try and stay warm. Tears of frustration froze in her lashes, and Belle had nearly resigned herself to the fact that she was going to have to call Rumplestiltskin if she intended to survive with all her charges intact.  
  
The day had been gloomy from the start, the sky overcast and angry, and Belle had looked to the garden for some Yuletide cheer.  
  
They had been lovers barely two weeks, but already a startling change had begun to work itself on the Dark Castle. Inside and out. Belle herself had been shocked to notice the tendrils of green when they emerged from the deepening snows of the approaching winter. Beyond the castle garden, the world was awash in blue and white, but within the garden, a riot of colorful blooms had begun to burst forth: peonies and lupines, chrysanthemums and columbine.  
  
Most lovely and impressive of all, Rumplestiltskin’s magical garden boasted blooming roses of the deepest crimson - a red the very color of life’s blood - even on the first day of winter, grown entirely for her pleasure and enjoyment. Belle had shown her appreciation in a way that had made Rumplestiltskin moan desperately, his rough-scaled hands filled with fistfuls of her curls, his cracked and blackened fingernails scraping at her scalp before flaming stars had burst behind his eyelids.  
  
And so, Belle had found herself standing at the window, admiring his fantastical handiwork from within the warmth of the castle when movement in a dark hollow beneath the rose bushes had caught her eye.  
  
There had been only light flurries outside the mullioned windows of the Dark Castle when she’d ventured out. She’d thought nothing of slipping outside the massive front doors in her blue, linen work dress and low-heeled slippers. The castle maintained itself for her comfort, and her everyday dresses were ankle-length and short sleeved. Made for her comfort while flitting about the castle, not for traipsing around in the wild woods. The day was overcast and gloomy, but she’d only meant to be outside for a moment. She hadn’t even taken her cloak! Rumplestiltskin would be furious at her recklessness.  
  
Three squirming puppies and their quavering mama had greeted her when she’d peered beneath the branches of the rose bush. Belle had scooped up the pups, tucking them in the warm space between her breasts, all the while speaking in soothing tones to the dam. She was a frail looking thing, white with black spots and eyes of limpid onyx, and though she looked the worse for wear, her whelps were fat and sleek and full of milk.  
  
“You’ve done right by your pups, my lady,” Belle whispered, trying to soothe and comfort the poor cur, but the starving, frightened dog had panicked, bolting when Belle reached out her hand to touch her. Of course, Belle had followed, calling out to coax her back. Back to her. Back to the Dark Castle and the strange phenomenon of it’s newly acquired light and warmth. _Home._  
  
It had seemed only a matter of a few moments - the blink of an eye if you had asked Belle - but when she finally gave up the chase, she was no longer on the grounds of the Dark Castle. Worse, she had no idea where exactly she was, and the snow had already begun to fall thick and fast. Deepening gloom and gathering clouds lowered both temperature and light, and Belle’s teeth rattled in her skull. There were tall pines and firs all about, naked oaks and leafless maples and bare-branched rowans, and she couldn’t see the castle or any other landmark from where she stood, panting with exertion, her lungs aching and burning from the biting chill.  
  
Calling Rumplestiltskin to rescue her meant two things, admitting defeat and facing his inevitable wrath at her carelessness in regards to her own safety. It also meant outing her charges, and she had intended to smuggle them undetected by the castle’s - if no longer her - master. If she could ensconce them safely in the kitchens, he need not know they were there until it was too late and he could no more deny her her new little family than he could deny her his warm kisses.  
  
Belle had determined to follow through with her plan, make her way back to the Dark Castle and hope the mother returned to her makeshift den beneath the rose bushes to find her pups. Then she could lure the frightened animal into the kitchen garden and close the gate.  
  
Belle knew her plan would work if only she could get back to the castle. She couldn’t see the sun, but she could tell where it must be and had set off determinedly in the direction she believed was correct, attempting to maintain her course by watching her tracks. She assured herself that regardless of whether she was traveling in the right direction, she must, at least, eventually come out into some sort of clearing that would afford her a view of the surrounding area.  
  
But limbs and senses dulled by the bitter cold betrayed her, and she had stumbled upon a deep ravine filled with stones and brambles quite unexpectedly. Her slick, heeled shoes found no purchase on the icy bank, and she’d tumbled down, arse over teakettle into the darkness below. 

Every protective instinct she possessed flared into sharp focus even as she had fallen, protecting the tiny puppies snuggled in her bodice. Her foot had caught amongst the stones, and the awkward angle seized her knee, wrenching it mercilessly as she tumbled headlong down the rocky slope. Pain had flared like hot needles of fire when she moved the injured leg, bringing salty tears to prick at her eyelids, freezing like tiny icicles on her cheeks.  
  
Now, she found herself moving far too slowly to make any headway against the storm growing around her. Lightning flashed, highlighting the bare branches of the trees that loomed above her, thunder rumbling soon after. There would be no respite. When the first bone-chilling howl rose through the impending gloom, the hairs on Belle’s neck stood out, gooseflesh prickling her skin. Her battle was lost. Her bare hands would not be enough to fight off wild wolves. Blood pounded in her ears, terror rising and her pulse racing as the howls drew closer. They would find her.  
  
Closing her eyes and balling her fists, she called his name three times into the frigid air. “Rumplestiltskin! Rumplestiltskin! Rumplestiltskin!”  
  
A roiling swirl of burgundy smoke cleared some feet away to reveal his welcome form, and Belle collapsed into the snow, shaking and spent. She hadn’t really doubted that he would come to her when she called, but it still felt like a welcome relief when his familiar, leather-clad form materialized so near.     
  
“Who called me?” He looked around in confusion. It had been Belle’s voice, calling his name thrice. A magical summons to the middle of the woods in a snowstorm? He was on alert, his senses heightened, whirling about to determine what foolish attacker must lurk in the shadows. Surely, Belle was in her library, curled up with a mug of hot cocoa and her favorite book, her toes toasty by the hearth, and this a black-hearted trap set by one of his enemies. Rumplestiltskin thought it had the stink of the Blue Fairy about it, to be sure.  
  
“Who summons the Dark One?” He called out again. When there was no answer, he searched about carefully, casting out wide nets of magic for assistance. A loud chorus of savage howls went up nearby, and a shiver ran down his spine. Lightning flashed, illuminating the eerie blue and white landscape and a dark form prone in the snow.  
  
“Belle?” In an instant he was at her side, his heart thumping in his chest, shards of ice stabbing at his mind, sliding down to settle at the base of his spine. If she was dead…  
  
“Belle! What has happened to you? How did you get out here?” He wrapped his strong arms around her and lifted her slight weight easily, taking her in his arms, relieved to find her still warm and breathing. 

Relief transformed instantly to boiling rage seething through his blood. Had someone made their way past his defenses and taken her from the Dark Castle? They had only been intimate for such a short time, who among his enemies would even know to use her against him? He didn’t know, but he would surely find out, and they would surely pay with their very life.  
  
All dark thoughts fled when Belle stirred in his arms, his entire attention focused on her. Was she harmed? She was shivering with cold and her clothing soaked through. Cuts and scratches marred her flawless complexion, spilling her crimson blood in dark streaks against her pale cheeks and his heart skipped, her breathing was shallow, and she hadn’t stirred. Fear became relief when the dark crescents of her lashes fluttered against wind-bitten cheeks, and she gazed up at him with eyes as warm and blue as the summer sea and smiled, her teeth chattering, lips trembling.  
  
“Rumple,” she managed, her lips cracked and stiff, “bring us home, and I’ll explain.” It might be unbelievable to an outsider, but Belle had begun to think of the Dark Castle as home, and its strange master was a welcome sight indeed. She rested her head against his strong shoulder and closed her eyes, her arms shielding her chest.  
  
“Are you all right?” His voice breaking almost imperceptibly, but she heard it. She heard the fear. The worry. For her. _Perhaps he won’t be angry after all?_  
  
“Home, please. We’re freezing.”  
  
His arms tightened around her, the familiar ozone tang of his magic tickling her nose an instant before the world dropped away, and she was whirling through the impenetrable void. Belle whimpered into his shoulder, holding on for dear life as time and space compressed and expanded around them in a way that sent her reeling every single time. So far, she hated being transported by magic, though she was slowly growing accustomed to it.  
  
When the billowing, purple smoke cleared, they were in the great hall in front of the large hearth, blessed heat washing over her from the crackling fire. Rumplestiltskin set her down carefully, and she watched his face flicker through a dozen emotions before settling on a somewhat uncomfortable glare. Her knee was screaming at her, but she remained still.  
  
“Belle?” His eyes narrowed, studying her. Evaluating. Scrutinizing. Had she just called the Dark Castle _home_ ? Twice? But no, a foolish thought... He brushed it aside, squashing the ember of hope that it had sparked in his brittle, old heart. He couldn’t envision that _she_ could think of the Dark Castle as anything but her prison. Even though he knew, and she knew, it wasn’t truly… not any longer.  
  
Belle shivered in her wet things, snapping him out of his unproductive reverie. He wanted to heal her wounds and warm her with his body, but first things first, he needed to know what the hell was going on.  
  
“Yes?” She was dripping on the carpet, and she wished very much that he would just magic some dry clothes on her. At least some warmth was seeping into her bones from the fire, and her mind had stopped spinning from being whisked home by magic.  
  
“Why is your chest wriggling?” He inquired, eyebrows arching. What had she gotten into today? He had gotten it through his head that she had run out, willy-nilly into the winter snow, in those shoes, with no cloak, because something had caught her fancy. And that - or those - somethings were now tucked down between her lovely breasts. He felt a little twinge of jealousy, along with the desire to peel away said bodice and slide his tongue through that pale valley. _Perhaps later?_  
  
Perhaps? Who was he trying to fool? Not a day had gone by since they had begun to be so much more than maid and master that they had not indulged in one another. More often than not, several times. He smiled to himself. Rumplestiltskin’s little maid had turned out to be quite the insatiable and wicked wanton, determined to debauch him in every room in the castle. He still had no idea how he’d gotten so lucky when he’d bargained for her service.  
  
Belle reached into her bodice, emerging with three sleek, fat puppies. They were mostly white with pink faces, and they were sprinkled with faint, tiny black spots, like freckles. Dalmatian pups. Too adorable for words. She held them to her breast, gazing down at them with adoration and concern in her beautiful cerulean eyes, and then at him with that same look of absolute adoration. What could he deny her?  
  
“What are those?” he asked, wrinkling his nose with distaste, and turning away as though they offended him. She held one out to him, but he made no move to take it, merely gazing hawkishly at it, fingers twitching.

A single tear slipped down her cheek, and he quivered in longing to reach out and capture it, wipe it away. But he must maintain some form of discipline in his castle. _Her castle? Their castle? It obeyed her as readily as it did him these days._ Would she accept all that he had yet to accomplish? He still had so much work to do, and all of this was a distraction he didn’t need, and yet could not turn away from.  
  
The great Rumplestiltskin, Dark One, Deal-maker, Stealer-of-Babes - _that one was an unfortunate misnomer_ \- had made yet another deal he did not understand, and he feared what would come of it in the end. But a seed of hope also bloomed in the desert of his cracked and broken heart, planted by her lips and tended by her faith, it was there. It endured.  
  
“Rumple.” The way she said his name went straight to his groin. She reached out and plopped the pup into his startled grasp. It squeaked and squirmed and nuzzled his scaled, taloned hand, as blind to the fact that he was a monster, a beast, as Belle was. He could feel the cracks in his armour grow wider with each passing day that her affection - _Lust? Love?_ \-  grew and warmed him. With each night they spent wrapped in each other’s arms.  
  
Belle stroked the pups in her hand, watching Rumple try and fail to remain aloof. He bent his golden-scaled face to the pup, whose eyes had only just opened, scrutinizing it with his piercing gaze, which he soon lifted to search her face. Her heart skipped a beat.  
  
“Where is the bitch?” He showed her his stained teeth.  
  
Belle blushed, “Excuse me? You mean the dam?”  
  
“The same.” He tittered.  
  
“She ran off, she was frightened.” Belle dropped her eyes. This is where the conversation could get sticky. Rumplestiltskin’s roughly scaled hand was stroking the pup from ears to tail, and the animal was making contented noises, but Rumple’s strange eyes still betrayed a flash of fire. He had not forgotten that she had run off and put herself in danger for this cur.  
  
“And you followed her.” It was not a question. Rumplestiltskin didn’t even need Belle to tell him the tale, he could already see it in his mind’s eye. Belle following the dog heedless of the dangers that surrounded her, though fire and foe - or rather ice and wolves - intent on being a hero. He shook his head. He admired her for her bravery, loved her for her fierce inner fire. Yes, yes. There it was. _Love._  
  
For him, there was no denying his part of the story. The terrible, cantankerous Beast was hopelessly in love with sweet, clement Beauty. He had felt the vague stirrings of True Love’s Kiss from the very first time their lips had met. One day she might be able to break the hold of the Dark One’s curse on his soul. Not yet, but soon he must guard against it, must be ready to reject it. The Dark One was part of him, and he could not let it go and yet still find a way to cross realms and find his lost son. He wondered again for the thousandth time if she would understand when the time came.  
  
Belle smiled her enigmatic smile and gave him a little, helpless shrug. “The pups need their mum.”  
  
“Yes, but you deal carelessly with my treasures, my lady,” he admonished, but gently. Belle blushed, stealing a glance at his face. His features were softened with affection, and he left off stroking the contented pup to run one black-taloned finger down her cheek, wiping away the stray tear. “I should be angry with you for endangering that which is precious to me. But I find I am not so inclined. Only relieved that you are mostly unharmed.” He tittered nervously.  
  
“Thank you, for rescuing me.” Belle studied him as he went back to stroking the contented puppy in his hand. He was pensive. His golden-yellow eyes filled with something softer than she had ever seen there before. Lines of care had melted away from his scaled countenance, the corners of his mouth turned up in a tiny smile.  
  
Who would have thought? The Dark One, smiling at his gentle lover and a handful of squirming whelps. The great hall of the Dark Castle festooned with the ribbons and bows of Yuletide. Mistletoe hung everywhere, tucked amid real fairy-lights and crystalline snowflakes as large as her hand that never melted, warm, glowing candles in every window. Belle’s heart was full to bursting with love for him, she wasn’t certain of what he felt for her, but she knew her own heart. In the days and nights since they had first given in to mutual desire, just there, on the settee in this very room, her feelings had grown from attraction and affection to heart-stopping, breath-stealing love. 

The scent of magic touched her senses, and a swirl of burgundy smoke hailed the arrival of a large, wooden box with high, sturdy sides, and filled with soft straw. The box was nestled by the hearth so that they would be warm and comfortable.  
  
Rumplestiltskin took the pups from Belle’s arms and placed them gently in the box. They cried and snuffled at the loss of contact, but they soon snuggled down together, blending themselves into one warm, black and white spotted body.  
  
He stood, leather creaking, gesturing toward Belle with fluttering hands. The tingling, electric shocks of magic whispered all around her, and she felt rather keenly every stitch of clothing she wore replaced with dry garments. When she looked down, her sodden dress had been replaced by the biggest, frothiest, laciest confection of a gown she had ever worn. It reminded her of the golden gown she had worn the day Rumplestiltskin had dealt for her service, but it was so much...more.  
  
Butter-yellow silk overlaid with sheer lace and delicately beaded in patterns of whimsical leaves and flowers. The bodice was smooth and slim with no fastenings front or back, it merely held and cupped her precisely as it should to flatter her figure, the sweetheart neckline emphasizing and enhancing her cleavage and presenting the creamy orbs of her breasts to good advantage. A single pearl on a golden chain nestled in the hollow of her throat  Her neck and shoulders were bare, highlighting the supreme delicacy of her collarbones, little poofs and swags of fabric draped just below showing off the rondure of her pale shoulders. The hooped and bustled skirt was yards and yards of fabric, it spread about her in a great circle, sweeping the floor in ripples and waves.  
  
Belle gasped, holding her arms wide. “Rumple! This dress!”  
  
“Well, you were dripping on my carpet.” He gestured at her, waving his hands up and down. His eyes followed, lit with the spark of desire, sweeping over her in an intimate caress, the corners of his mouth turned up in a knowing smile.  


“You will, however, require my assistance to get out of it again, as well.” Her strange lover bounced up and down on the balls of his toes like an excited child.  
  
“A small price to pay.” Belle pressed the back of her hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle.  
  
“Now, to tend you, my sweet,” he crooned, dancing toward her. “I would heal your cuts and bruises, and find a way to warm you.” He reached for her, fingers waggling. Rumplestiltskin leaned in to kiss her perfect mouth, his golden lips warm and inviting.  
  
“Of course, but please, first go and find their dam.” She gestured to the box of puppies, her luscious mouth set in a pretty pout. She tilted her head to one side, gazing up at him through dark, thick lashes, her azure eyes pleading.  
  
“She is out there, somewhere? You ask me to use magic?” He inclined his head toward the windows and gave her a significant bounce of his eyebrows.  
  
“Yes. I’ll pay.” Belle lifted her chin, squaring her jaw as though she were about to enter the fray. Entirely unafraid, though she faced the Dark One himself and asked for a deal. “Name your price.”  
  
His eyes raked over her form, lingering on her lips, the soft swell of her breasts above her corset, and down. What would he ask for? A tryst? He had no need to bargain for that. Though a thrill ran through her at the thought. A slow smile spread across his eerie features, a wicked gleam in his strange and beautiful eyes.  
  
“A kiss then, my lady?” Surely she would grant him that, though he had something far more wicked in mind than the mere brushing of mouths together.  
  
Belle’s eyebrows shot up. “You ask for a kiss when I give them to you freely? That seems a poor bargain for the great Deal-maker, Rumplestiltskin. What would happen to your fearsome reputation should word of such a thing escape.” She gazed at him from beneath those lowered lashes.  
  
“Ah, but not just any kiss.” Rumplestiltskin waved a warning finger, tutting her. He lifted a lock of her chestnut hair, twining it gently around his finger. “The kiss I require is of a singular type, and I shall be allowed to collect it at my leisure.”  
  
“An open-ended deal?” Belle laughed at the Dark One, who had the good grace to look offended. Mouth open in shocked dismay, hand over wounded heart. It was quite a show, and Belle pressed her lips together to hide her mirth. “Are you not the one who warned me to never make a deal if I didn't fully understand the terms?”  
  
Rumplestiltskin scoffed, “Yes, of course, my dear, but my warning was against others, not me! I assure you, I make no deal you will find onerous to fulfill.” He licked his lips. No, she would find this kiss very pleasurable, indeed.  
  
“You haven’t yet,” Belle answered, her voice lowering suggestively. And if it was possible for the Dark One to blush, he did so just then. A warm glow rising in his golden-scaled cheeks. She was going to agree! “Very well. A special kiss to be granted at the time of your choosing.” His gift of foresight had served him well, today, if he wasn’t mistaken. And he rarely was.  
  
Rumplestiltskin clapped his hands together with glee, the lace cuffs of his shirt fluttering merrily, and bouncing on his toes. “Deal!” He disappeared in a puff of smoke.  
  
Belle had limped over to comfort the whining pups, her knee screaming at her. She knew Rumple would heal it the moment he was back, which didn’t take nearly as long as she expected. In the blink of an eye Rumple returned in his customary poof of smoke, the Dalmatian bitch cradled gently in his arms.  
  
“I suppose you’ll want to keep them?” He asked with an air of disdain as he set the dog into the crate with her whelps.  
  
“I… Oh! Can we?” Belle asked, climbing to her feet with a sharp wince, though it didn’t stop her from throwing herself into Rumple’s arms. He staggered back, breath whooshing from his chest. His little ball of spitfire squeezing him for all she was worth. She lifted her face expectantly, eyes wide and blue, the lovely pink bow of her perfect lips curled up in an ecstatic smile.  
  
From him elicited a put-upon sigh, shaking his head, curls bouncing, even as he slid his hands down her back. “Well, at least it wasn’t a horde of cats,” he rejoined, shuddering as though that would have been the end of everything.  
  
“What do you have against cats?” Belle asked, indignant on behalf of all felines everywhere.  
  
“Nothing, nothing,” he assured her. “Except that they spare no allegiance, even for the hand that feeds them. Dogs, on the other hand, are loyal to the last.” He bent down and gave the dog an affectionate pat, she nuzzled his hand and whined when he abandoned her to stroke each pup in turn. Belle was astonished, he had gained her trust so quickly!  
  
“But… how…” Belle wondered. The dog’s expressive black eyes followed Rumple’s every movement, content to let her pups suckle. Two golden dishes appeared next to the comfortable box, one full of clean water, the other overflowing with steaming meat and rich gravy. She smiled to herself, there was no need to ask whether she would need to keep the dishes full and fresh, the castle would see to its new charges’ needs as well as it saw to her own.  
  
“It wasn’t difficult,” Rumple mused wistfully, rising to return to her side, “I’ve known a sheepdog or two in my day.” He cupped Belle’s face in his hands, studying the scratches on her cheeks. He tutted, “So careless of my treasures, whatever shall I do with you?” He brought his face to hers, plucking at her lips in a gentle kiss, and Belle moaned, opening for him. Rumplestiltskin deepened the kiss, twining his tongue with hers and letting his magic caress her from head to toe.  
  
All of her small hurts were instantly healed. Belle sighed, as much as magic, dark magic, made her nervous, she could not deny the pleasure of its touch, as though his hands were everywhere at once on her body. She let herself revel in it, the way it meandered over her skin, the way it tingled and flowed. He didn’t hold anything back, and the twinkle in his eye was pure mischief as it caressed her thighs and up to her very core. Belle moaned and shuddered, clutching at his stiff leather coat.  
  
“Incubus,” she breathed into his mouth, and Rumplestiltskin giggled.  
  
“There, there,” he crooned, “almost all better.” He had felt some damage in her knee, beyond a simple healing spell. He would need to delve deeper and concentrate on that injury alone to heal it properly. “Lift your skirts, my dear, and let old Rumple have a look at that delectable, little knee of yours,” he instructed, with an impish waggle of his expressive brows, fingers following suit.  
  
Belle giggled, and gathered the skirts, lifting the unwieldy hoops and fabric high and exposing all of her lower regions to his hungry gaze. Rumplestiltskin made an appreciative noise in the back of his throat at the sight of her lithe limbs, covered though they were in stockings and garters and snow-white cotton drawers. He knew what treasures lay beneath, and he was yearning to unwrap them. Everything tied with ribbons of pale yellow to match her skirts and Rumple plucked at them with eager fingers, his dark, scaled hands a startling contrast to the pristine white of her petticoats.  
  
Rumplestiltskin removed his dragonhide coat with a flourish, laying it across the arm of one of the nearby chairs, and Belle admired his slender form as he circled around. Pleasingly narrow ankles widened into well-formed calves laced up in more dragonhide, with heeled and silver-buckled boots turned up at the tips of his toes. The way the tight leather of his breeches stretched over lightly-muscled thighs and his captivating arse made her belly tremble and flutter, and Belle licked her lips, her eyes appreciating the flat planes of his broad chest above a waist that tapered down nicely to slim hips. Overall, the effect was more than merely pleasing, and she pressed her thighs together, feeling the moisture that had begun to form as she watched him move about with the sinuous grace of a dancer.  
  
With a cheeky bow and a wicked grin, he knelt at Belle’s feet. Leather breeches and boots creaking and cracking. He closed his fingers around her swollen knee, sending his magic and his mind into tendon and ligament, muscle, bone and skin. He stretched and soothed and mended, knitting together flesh which had parted and repairing all that had been damaged in her careless tumble. The roughened palms of his hands caressed up Belle’s thighs, plucking open the ribbons that tightened just above the knee, and seeking up under the lace for naked skin, but finding the tops of her silk stockings instead.  
  
Those fastened with more ribbons tied around the thickness of her thighs, and he pulled them free with delicate fingertips, taking care to wind a ribbon around each middle finger, and letting the ends dangle freely across his palms. He bent down to unbuckle each of her shoes, slipping them off and setting them neatly to one side. Rumplestiltskin slipped his hands under the hems of her drawers, rolling each stocking down with slow care, dragging his stained fingernails down the length of her pale, perfect legs as he did so.  
  
Belle shivered, she could feel every caress like a soft whisper against her skin, but the volume of her skirts and petticoats kept her from _seeing_ what Rumplestiltskin was up to. He raked his nails up and up, the ribbons around his fingers trailing after, scraping nails sending little jolts of sensation and the fluttering silks tickling in their wake. The tips of his fingers tangled in the dark curls at the apex of her thighs and he carded his fingers through them gently. Her blood quickened, her breath catching in her chest in a delicate gasp. Sweet anticipation and a particular pressure building low between her hips at his next words.    
  
“I will take my payment now,” Rumplestiltskin purred, his hands caressing over her hips and buttocks when a sound like a thunderclap rang through the great hall, the massive doors slamming open.  
  
Belle shrieked, lifting her hands to her face, as a tall, glittering woman dressed head to toe in black strode into the room. Her high-heeled boots clacked against the floorboards, skirts and cloak flowing out behind her like a black wind sweeping through the great hall.  
  
“Rumplestiltskin!” Regina thundered, peeling off long leather gloves and dropping them on the table. “I have a deal to discuss, about a certain milliner you may know.” She tapped her black-booted foot impatiently, glancing around the great hall with wide, dark, searching eyes, her petulant mouth agape. She snapped it shut, a crease forming between furrowed brows. Raven-dark hair was smoothed up in a sleek ponytail high on her head that fell over her shoulder in a single perfect curl.  
  
Belle’s heart was racing, she’d dropped her skirts right over top of Rumplestiltskin’s head, and rather than clamber out as she’d expected, he’d gone completely still. His hands were gripping her thighs like a vise, fingertips digging in painfully, and he gave her an almost imperceptible shake. Panic pounded through her like a thousand birds taking to wing all at once. He wanted her to engage with the Evil Queen while he was hidden under her skirts? What madness was this?  
  
Rumplestiltskin willed Belle to fathom his desire, and he let out a whoosh of breath when he heard her greet Regina in an imperturbable tone, as though she were perfectly nonplussed to entertain royalty in her parlor. He had his reasons for hiding, not the least of which to test Belle’s mettle in even the most unpredictable of situations. If she was to be his companion in all that he had yet to do, she must be unflappable, willing to follow his lead at a gesture, a thought. They must be of one purpose and mind, and he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to put that into practice. He gave Belle’s buttocks a reassuring squeeze beneath the skirt. She gave him a tiny stomp of her delicate foot, which he thoroughly ignored, much to her dismay.  
  
Of course, he was also very interested to hear what his erstwhile protegee had to say about him when she thought he wasn’t listening. But that was entirely beside the point.  
  
“Good afternoon, Your Majesty.” Belle greeted the Evil Queen with an inclination of her head and a flourish of her hand. “Welcome to the Dark Castle. How may we be of service to you?”  
  
Regina’s penetrating gaze swept over the room, taking in the ribbons and bows that decorated the hearth, and the lit candles that shone in every window. Her brow creasing at the sight of a twenty-foot tall living balsam fir bedecked with twinkling fairy-lights, candles that never guttered, and giant snowflakes that looked for all the world to be real crystals of snow magnified to gigantic proportions.  
  
“I must speak with your Master.” Regina showed Belle perfectly even, white teeth beneath lips as crimson as Rumplestiltskin’s magical roses. That is to say lips as red as blood. Her coal black eyes burning with an inner rage that made Belle shudder in the face of its intensity. People feared Rumplestiltskin because he was the all-powerful Dark One, but he mostly made deals that were firm but fair and did not toy with innocents except in great need. But here was a woman fueled by murderous hatred, a bone-deep thirst for blood and misery that washed over Belle like a tide of tar and refuse.  
  
“Rumple is otherwise engaged at the moment,” Belle answered steadily, “is there some message I can convey to him?” A tiny whiff of ozone reached her nostrils, and she wondered if he had cast some sort of noise-dampening spell. She could no longer hear the rustle of fabric, even when he moved. She felt him pluck free the ribbon that held up her drawers, the fine cotton falling about her ankles. He slid his hands across the naked globes of her arse. She felt the heat rising in her cheeks and hoped Regina wouldn’t notice her rosy blush.  
  
The Evil Queen’s eyes seemed to see Belle for the first time. The corners of her painted mouth turned down at the sight of Rumplestiltskin’s _caretaker_ dressed in a sumptuous ballgown of beaded silk and lace, standing at the hearth as though she were the Mistress here and not the maid. But her look disbelief lasted only a heartbeat before she concealed it behind her most saccharine smile. “My dear, is that how your Master instructed you to speak to a Queen of the Realms? Did he not teach you to offer obeisance in the presence of royalty? A curtsey would suffice.”  
  
“Rumplestiltskin informed me most plainly that _our_ lands are wholly apart from the Realms,” Belle remarked, meeting the Queen’s startled eyes with a level stare. “He was very clear that the Dark Castle genuflects to no ruler from outside our borders.”  
  
Rumplestiltskin was not still beneath her gown any longer, she felt him shake with laughter at her impertinence. He was pleased. She felt the telltale susurrus as Rumplestiltskin banished all of her underthings in a puff of magic. Trails of tingles traced up her thighs with tips of his sharp talons until he reached the apex. The wetness of his tongue trailed along the crease of her thighs, and he pressed a kiss just above her mound. She stifled a gasp when she felt his thumbs gently part the folds of her sex, fingertips gripping the soft flesh of her hips, the tip of his rough tongue sweeping through and circling the sensitive pearl of her clit. Fire burned through her veins, and her knees threatened to collapse, but he held her up as his tongue swirled and lapped at her. _She was going to murder him with her bare hands if she didn’t die of embarrassment first!_ _  
__  
_ The Evil Queen’s glittering black eyes narrowed dangerously at the effrontery. Who was this cheeky girl to speak with such audacity to a queen? Regina was trying very hard not to reveal her astonishment at the change that had come over the Dark Castle since her last visit. The wan winter light streamed in open windows that had always been covered by thick curtains. There wasn’t a speck of dust to be found, and the surface of every object in Rumplestiltskin’s vast collection gleamed. There were Yule decorations and mistletoe hanging from the rafters. There were _fairy-lights_ by all the gods!  
  
“While that may be true, you are still the help.” Regina puffed out her rather remarkable cleavage and lifted her chin haughtily. Her kohl-rimmed eyes shone like sharp black diamonds, and she gave Belle a wolfish smile. “Is it not customary to offer refreshments, or has the hospitality of the Dark Castle waned of late?”  
  
Why did the girl squirm so? Was that a blush rising in her cheeks? Were those her shoes tucked under the settee? Regina shook her bejeweled head. What was really going on here? Where was Rumplestiltskin and why was this mere slip of a girl, little more than a child really, refusing to pay her the fealty she was due?  
  
Belle laughed, a clear, ringing sound that echoed through the room. The corner of her mouth turned up in what Regina could only call a mocking smile “When has the Dark Castle ever been known for its hospitality, Your Majesty?” But the girl gestured with her hands - were they trembling? - and a tea cart materialized in a shower of silver light directly between them. It held a delicate porcelain tea set in white with a blue floral motif, a pot of steaming herbal tea, sugar cubes and cream. A little dish of lemon wedges and a jar of golden honey were set to one side. There were tea cakes and petit fours, a dish of clotted cream, and miniature scones in orange peel and blueberry flavors.  
  
“You may help yourself, Your Majesty,” Belle managed, her limbs quivering with Rumplestiltskin’s merciless attention. He’d nudged her thighs apart, and it was a good thing she had the back of a nearby chair to grasp for leverage and his strong hands to keep her upright. His mouth was wickedly busy in her most intimate places, his lips plucking and sucking at her labia, his tongue delving as far into her cunt as he was able to reach. He hummed against her clit, sucking it in and rolling it between his lips. Her body was trembling, and she wanted to gasp and cry out, but the Evil Queen’s piercing eyes were upon her.  
  
Regina was aghast at the suggestion that she pour her own tea, but she did so with a scowl, adding lemon and four sugar cubes to her cup. How dare this impudent child not serve the guests of her Master. Three petit fours and a tea cake went also on her plate.  
  
“What was your name child?” Regina asked, suddenly aware that there were now two chairs by the hearth and at one end of the long center table. And was that not Rumplestiltskin’s favorite dragonhide coat? “I wasn’t aware the Dark One had taken an apprentice rather than a maid? You have magic, girl?”  
  
Belle squeaked when one of Rumple’s fingers slid through her folds and up inside her in one smooth motion, and she surreptitiously bit the side of her hand to stifle it. Regina had seated her overreaching arse in Rumplestiltskin’s chair at the head of the table, and she looked up sharply at the noise. Who was this woman to Rumple? It made her blood boil to see her so carelessly draped across _his_ chair.  
  
“I am Lady Belle Marchland.” Belle’s knuckles were white with the strain of gripping the chair back, the flat of his tongue was currently sweeping through her cunt in long, hot strokes as he thrust two fingers knuckle deep inside her. She was not only going to murder him but box him about the ears and then kiss him senseless as well. Gods the things he was doing with his tongue and fingers, it was almost impossible to stay still, and quiet. How did he expect her not to pant and writhe and moan with the sensations?  
  
“I used no magic to bring the tea,” Belle explained. “The Dark Castle obeys my will. It brought the tea and the cart from the kitchens below at my thought. The magic is inherent in the castle, I merely make use of it.” Belle met Regina’s penetrating gaze with a flat look. “As for what I am to Rumplestiltskin...that is no one’s business but ours now, is it, Regina?”  
  
If Regina was surprised by the use of her name rather than the customary honorific, she gave no sign. Merely watching Belle over the rim of her teacup. She tapped a lacquered nail against the porcelain, it was painted in a glistening red so deep it might have been black tinted with blood. _Click. Click. Click._ The silence stretched out between them.  
  
Blue fire burned in Belle’s eyes. Regina was surprised the old imp still had it in him, but this girl presiding over the great hall of the Dark Castle in finery that rivaled her own was undoubtedly more than merely his maid. That much was certain. But were they lovers or had Belle taken her place as Rumple’s trusted protegee? Would he still give her the Dark Curse he had been perfecting or would he choose this upstart over her?  
  
Rumplestiltskin was trembling with utter exhilaration at Belle’s magnificent performance in this encounter with the Evil Queen. She was every bit of fiery perfection that he’d anticipated she would be. It was as though she read his very mind and heart. She had flawlessly planted the seeds of doubt in Regina’s mind. Leaving Regina reeling and unsure of Belle’s role in his life and his plans. It was just what he needed to maintain leverage over the prickly and challenging Queen.  
  
Oh, he wanted to give her the most rapturous climax, but Belle was unable to contain her noises when she was consumed by bliss. He slid three fingers into her creamy, wet cunt, and flicked his thumb over her precious pearl, circling around firmly and feeling her thigh muscles tremble. She was going to come if he kept it up and there would be no hiding that from the Evil Queen no matter how hard she bit down on her own wrist.  
  
Belle moaned under her breath, and the Queen’s eyes snapped back to hers. She put a pink frosted petit four in her mouth, chewing and swallowing before brushing the crumbs off her lap and onto the floor. She stood with a flourish, sweeping back the long train of her beaded overskirt, her long legs clad in leather riding pants. She strode towards where Belle was standing by the hearth.  
  
“Are you quite alright, child?” Regina cocked her head and pursed her lips. “You’re quite flushed. Why don’t you sit down? You look as though you might faint.”    
  
“I’m… I’m fine,” Belle stammered, waving her away, Rumple’s fingers sliding in and out of her soaking wetness, his mouth and tongue suckling at her clit with a will. The last thing she needed was for the Queen to come any closer. At that moment, the dalmatian popped out of her box, hopping over the side, and insinuating her frail form between Belle and the Evil Queen. She made no noise, no growl or bared teeth, she merely sat between the two, her tail flicking back and forth, her liquid onyx eyes fixed upon the Queen.  
  
“A dog, too?” Regina peered gingerly into the box from where she stood, a ringed hand pressed to her breast. “And puppies?” Her predatory smile gleamed. “How very domestic. I didn’t know the old trickster had it in him.”  
  
Belle could barely breathe, she was trying so hard not to climax, knowing that if she did, she would scream in pleasure. She was absolutely going to wring Rumple’s impish, green neck when this was over. After she came, and after he had fucked her hard against the table, of course. A lady must maintain her priorities, after all. Belle wished very much that Regina would shut up and be off, but much to her discomfiture, the other woman continued speaking.  
  
“Where is the imp anyway?” Regina’s gaze bored into her. Belle was sure she could see Rumplestiltskin licking away at her beneath her skirt, his fingers knuckle deep inside her at that very moment.  
  
“Oh, he’s...about.” Belle waved a flippant hand, a shiver running through her, and a tiny gasp escaping her lips. Belle pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. Regina’s eyes narrowed.  
  
“The Enchanted Forest isn’t expecting….?” Regina trailed off, leaving the implication hanging. She shook herself as if to be rid of an unwanted thought, “No, that would be ridiculous.” She whirled around, candlelight glittering off the jeweled choker encircling her throat.  
  
“I will let him know you wish to speak to him about a deal,” Belle gasped, her heart racing, blood pounding in her ears. It was going to happen, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. The Evil Queen would discover Rumplestiltskin with his face buried between her thighs, and Belle would come right there in front of her.  
  
“Well, be sure and tell _Rumple_ I love what he's done with the place.” Regina gave Belle a wink and a knowing smirk, snapping her fingers and disappearing in a swirl of crimson smoke.  
  
Rumplestiltskin felt a gush of hot fluid bathe his tongue as Belle’s thighs gripped the sides of his head. She collapsed against him, shouting his name and wailing as he guided her through a long, shuddering climax. Belle kept coming as long as he maintained the rhythm of his tongue against her clit, his hands and magic the only thing holding her upright.  
  
Belle thought she might die as the last quakes of the aftershocks shot through her body. Her breath was coming in great gulps as Rumplestiltskin finally clambered out from beneath her skirts.  
  
“You!” She pointed at his glistening face, trying as hard as she could to maintain a stern countenance as she admonished the Dark One for his egregious crime against her person. “I’m going to...to…” Belle staggered, and Rumple caught her in his arms.  
  
His mouth was drawn into a smug, lopsided grin that Belle wanted for all the world to smack from his face. “To what? What are you going to do with me, my sweet?” he giggled, waggling his eyebrows at her. “I long to discover it.”  
  
“You knew! You knew she was coming, didn’t you?” Belle shoved him back. His smug self-assurance inciting her righteous ire. She pounded on his chest with her little fists, and he fell back. “I can’t believe you would put me in such a position with the Evil Queen!”  
  
“You were never in danger, my dear,” Rumplestiltskin assured her, backing up until his buttocks were sitting on the edge of the long, polished oak table. Belle continued to push forward until he was leaning back against it.  
  
“Danger?” Belle snapped, “I’m not afraid of her. Though I very much want to hear the story of how she came to feel so comfortable here that she barges in without even knocking. Care to tell me that tale? Hmmm?”  
  
“There’s nothing to tell, really…” Rumple stammered. “She is merely a former apprentice, nothing more.” He held up his hands defensively. “I promise.”  
  
“You embarrassed me.” Tears stung behind her eyes, but the fight had gone out of her.  
  
He cupped her face with his scaled hands, “No, no. You did so well, Belle. She sought to manipulate you, to use you against me, she was assuming you are here against your will.” His smile was twisted, but his eyes sparkled, “But you made plain to her that you are Mistress here, don’t you see? You were perfect.”  
  
Belle scrutinized him for any of the half-truths or misdirections that he was so adept at, but he was not deceiving her. His eyes were wide and so very sincere. Full of that same soft affection she had seen there earlier. She shoved at him until he was lying back on the polished oak. “Get rid of these,” she ordered, plucking at the buttons of his brocade waistcoat, and flipping the ruffle of his shirt with insolent fingers.  
  
“I and my magic are but your humble servants.”  
  
Their clothing melted away in a shower of molten gold sparkles as she climbed atop him, straddling his hips. She gazed down at him, Rumplestiltskin, the Dark One, her strange beast-lover, golden-green and scaled like a dragon. She ran her hands over his pebbled flesh, and he quivered beneath her. She reached down to grasp his cock, and he moaned as she lined them up, sliding the blunt head of him through her velvet folds, and sinking down onto him with a groan. _Let the Evil Queen see them now!_  
  
Belle’s lips quirked into a little smile. “Does this mean our deal is fulfilled?”  
  
“Indeed it does.” His eyes glittered.  
  
“And we can keep the dogs?” She squeezed her inner muscles around his hard length buried deep inside. He groaned and arched up into her.  
  
“Yes, of course,” he gasped writhing as she milked him with her silken walls. “She protected you when the Queen approached you. I told you dogs were loyal to the last. She is welcome here always, in her new home.”  
  
“Just as I am?” Belle asked as she began to move, rocking her hips forward and back. Allowing his thickness to slip almost all the way out before plunging back down to take him to the hilt again. He felt sublime inside her. “Welcome in my new home?” She braced her small hands on his firm belly and rode him furiously, their breaths coming hard and fast.  
  
“Yes!” Rumplestiltskin shouted, gripping her hips with his stained fingers, tugging her down firmly onto his cock with every stroke. His elbow flew wide knocking against the porcelain teacup that Regina had left on the table unheeded. It flew to the side, falling to the carpet with an ominous _thump_.  
  
“What was that?” He asked, not willing to break the rhythm for a mere triviality. She was soaking wet and incredibly tight, and she felt exquisite around him, the friction building quickly. Belle glanced over the side while continuing the urgent rise and fall, rotating her hips to grind her mound against him. He moved his fingers between them, rubbing at her until she came with a shuddering cry, her slick walls clenching and pulling at him, his cock pulsing deep within her as he followed her with a groaning shout.  
  
They stayed together until he softened and slipped out of her with a shiver and a sigh. Belle braced with her hands against his stomach, panting for breath as she came down from her rapture. She waved a hand, gesturing to the floor, and mumbled, sounding a little drunk,“Oh, one of the teacups. It’s chipped.”  
  
Rumplestiltskin grinned, pulling her down into a tender kiss, murmuring against her lips, “Ah, well, no matter. It’s just a cup.”


End file.
